


Standoff

by OutOfMyGourdon



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures, Problem Sleuth (Webcomic)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad Firearm Safety, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Gunplay, Knifeplay, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Problem Sleuth is Human, Spades Slick isn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28293063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OutOfMyGourdon/pseuds/OutOfMyGourdon
Summary: Problem Sleuth bursts into one of the Midnight Crew's hideouts, but things don't quite go as planned.CW:Gunplay and Knifeplay - Both pretty mild. A loaded gun is involved but never discharged, and a dull knife does make some purely cosmetic wounds.Really terrible firearm safety. If you have ever handled a firearm this will probably make you cringe.Anal Sex
Relationships: Problem Sleuth/Spades Slick
Kudos: 4





	Standoff

Spades Slick felt the gun's cold barrel press against his chest. Problem Sleuth always kept his revolver loaded and cocked, a fact which Spades Slick resented. He always worried that he’d blow a hole in his foot, the way he kept it carelessly stuffed in his coat pocket. Although his concerns for Sleuth's safety were perfectly genuine, they were undermined somewhat by the fact that Slick had also been holding his knife against Sleuth's throat.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” Spades grumbled, as his brow furrowed slightly more than usual. The two of them were frozen together in the doorway to one of the Midnight Crew's many hideouts. The Sleuth had only just picked the door open, but Slick had a feeling he'd be getting a visit from the nosy investigator tonight.

“Funny, that’s the exact question I came here to ask you. What the Hell have you been getting up to in your little hidey-hole?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t be coy with me,” Problem Sleuth said, subtly twisting the barrel of his gun. “Did you really think nobody would notice a stunt like that?”

“What stunt? You know I’ve been keeping my nose clea-"

Spades’ staunch proclamation of innocence was interrupted by a buckaw from the other room. Slick’s expression somehow managed to sour even further.

“Alright, you caught me. I stole the string bean's chicken. So fucking what?”

“Well, I could snitch on you, and I’m sure I’d be rewarded handsomely,” Sleuth deliberated. “But today I think I’m looking for a different kind of reward.”

With that one sentence, all of Slick's suspicions were immediately confirmed. Sleuth began to fondle Slick's shoulder with his free hand, as if his intentions weren't obvious enough already. The recipient of his affections, however, was unimpressed as Sleuth started to conspicuously grind his knee against the short-tempered mobster's crotch.

“You seem to be forgetting that you’re not the only one being held at knife- er, gu- weaponpoint.”

“And I’m certainly not the only one enjoying it either,” Problem Sleuth retorted, a smug grin crossing his filthy mug as he motioned to the growing bulge in Slick's pants. Slicks’ grimace held, but his eyes darted off to the side awkwardly in embarrassment.

Sleuth’s expression softened and he paused for a moment. He placed a hand on Slick’s shoulder. “Sorry, is something wrong?” the gumshoe asked thoughtfully. "You know I wasn't actually going to snitch you out, right?"

“Are you my boyfriend or are you my fucking shrink?” Spades grumbled. “Just shut up and shag me already before you kill the mood.”

Spades certainly wasn’t the romantic type. That isn’t to say he didn’t enjoy romance, he just didn’t see the need to dress it up with a bunch of fancy words and sappy poems. Shit like that made him sick. Better to just keep it simple.

“Love you too, babe.” Problem Sleuth said back sarcastically before planting a kiss on his cheek. See? That’s the exact kind of sweet talk Spades absolutely despised, and Problem Sleuth _knew_ how much Spades Slick hated that saccharine nonsense. Of course the Sleuth always loved pushing Slicks’ buttons - something about the way Slick took himself so seriously made it quite satisfying to see the gangster blush as Sleuth pulled him closer with one arm.

“Fuck you.”

“Don't worry, I’m getting there.” Spades really made this too easy.

Problem Sleuth reached for Spades’ belt with his free hand, clumsily undoing the buckle and pulling it out of its loopings. He was never much good with his left hand, so he fumbled a moment before he could undo Spades’ pants button. The two of them turned together for a moment before landing on a nearby sofa. Spades stood over the Sleuth, his back hunched forward, with one hand on Sleuth’s shoulder pushing him into the cushions. Spades dug around for a moment before exchanging his current knife for another one from his suit pocket, which he quickly flipped open. Spades' clawed hand dug sharply into the cushion behind him as he lightly dragged the tip of the blade up Problem Sleuth's arm. Sleuth's fingers played with the hammer of his .38 special, still pressed to Slick’s suit, as he felt the dulled blade scrape past his soft skin.

“You keep it up with your lovey-dovey shit and I’ll use the real one next time.” Although the small switchblade could still hold an edge, it had been blunted considerably for this exact purpose beforehand. You could probably manage to cut, say, a cucumber with it, but it would take some effort. Spades obviously didn’t want to actually injure Sleuth, but he just adored watching him squirm under the cold steel blade. But would it really be such a shame if Sleuth left with a few nicks and scratches?

“Geez, no need to be such a Sensitive Sally. Is that what SS stood for this whole time?”

"You’re the one here who’s sitting here gushing about your feelings," Spades Slick snarled, his face reddening. “And just for that smart mouth of yours, have yourself a little memento.”

Spades flicks the tip of the knife across Problem Sleuth’s forearm, leaving a shallow but clearly visible cut. Sleuth winced a little, but his reaction was otherwise constrained to a muted blush. As Spades Slick drew his knife back, he leaned in, giving Problem Sleuth a gentle kiss on the cheek. "And that's what I think of all your romantic horseshit," Spades quipped, still blushing, but now with perhaps the smuggest grin he had had all week.

"What's wrong, purrbeast got your tongue?" Slick said, his mouth contorted into a toothy grin. Oddly enough, that little smooch seemed to be what really threw the Problem Sleuth off of his game the most. With Slick he could expect the rude remarks and the toxic personality, but he wasn't expecting the sudden affection quite so much.

"I'm not sure how to feel about such a sudden change of heart," Problem Sleuth replied honestly, as Spades Slick yanked his belt off feverishly, flinging it to the side.

"I didn't change shit. Now keep your ass still if you don't want this to turn into a visit to the emergency room."

Spades' knife blade wound its way towards the Sleuth's crotch, working its way behind his pants button, before swiping it off with a flourish. Or at least that's what it would have done, if the blade was actually any good. It was closer to an awkward sawing motion, but eventually it was unceremoniously cut loose from its bindings and clattered to the wooden floorboards, rolling underneath the couch. A moment later and Slick was parting Sleuth's zipper with his blade. Problem Sleuth could feel the tip of the blade through his loose white underpants, which were gradually brought into view.

"That's a cute little pair of tighty-whities you got there," Spades Slick teased.

"Maybe next time I'll wear a thong, jackass," Problem Sleuth retorted, not entirely insincere in his delivery. "You gonna get the rest of this off of me or what? you haven't even taken off my damn coat, and you're already jonesing for my crotch. Someone ought to teach you a thing or two about being a good host." Sleuth added, despite the fact that he was still holding said host at gunpoint.

"You're one to talk." Spades said curtly. He rolled his eyes as he unceremoniously unbuttoned Sleuth's beige trench coat and pulled it up over him, knocking off the Sleuth's modest hat in the process. Now all that stood in his way was a thin white undershirt. A few more buttons undone and the Sleuth's undershirt was parted to expose his only slightly hairy chest. A single long, thin scar was faintly visible under his pectorals, which had faded with time long ago.

"My turn now, cutie pie~" The Sleuth said, immediately juxtaposing his cute tone by slamming the frame of his revolver against the side of Slick's face (after removing his fingers from the trigger guard, of course - safety first!). While he had that sucker stunned, he grabbed him by the neck, pulling Spades Slick right up against him before rolling on top of him. The half-naked detective yanked Slick's hat off and donned it himself. Spades Slick impotently lashed out with his knife, giving the Sleuth a few more light scratches across his forearms. Tucking his sidearm into the waistband of his underwear momentarily, the Sleuth pinned Slick's arm to the couch, levering the knife out of his hand.

"I think I'll have to confiscate this contraband, you know how dangerous that stuff can be in the wrong hands," Sleuth lectured sarcastically, infusing himself with all the zeal of an underpaid narcotics agent educating an auditorium of highschool students on the dangers of drugs. He carved a thin line across the chitinous shell of Spades Slick's right cheek, leaving a small trail of white dust. A Dersite's exoskeleton is compositionally equivalent to an average fingernail, so Slick didn't really feel more than a vague sense of pressure, but it still took a lot of force to make an actual scratch in his carapace. "See? Look how sharp this blade is." He then carved another, crossing the original perpendicularly. "Someone could seriously hurt themselves with something like this! We wouldn't want that now, would we Slick?" As he spoke, his words dripping with insincerity, he tipped Slick's chin upwards with the broad side of the blade.

Situated on top of Slick, the Sleuth looked over his catch the way a starving dog might observe a juicy chunk of steak. He discarded the dull knife, thoughtlessly casting it to the side as he ferociously dug into his own hunk of meat. His movements were feverish. Although their rapidity led to some mistakes, he more than made up for it with sheer eagerness. In a matter of seconds, Spades Slick's expensive suit was practically ripped open, and just a few moments later his remaining clothes flew off of him like a newspaper in a hurricane. His tie, his suit, his undershirt, and his belt were scattered chaotically about the room. As Slick's chest came into view, Sleuth's fatty hands began to gently caress it, rubbing against the smooth, black surface. His pants would soon join their brethren on the floor. As Problem Sleuth straddled his legs around Slick, he worked the pair of trousers off of Slick and onto the ground. Now, the only article Spades Slick was wearing were his featureless black boxers.

Finally, Problem Sleuth was before the object of his aspirations. Sleuth could easily see the outline of his erection against the dark fabric. However, he wasn't quite as gung-ho about taking off Spades Slick's final article as he was about tearing off the rest of his attire. Instead, he endeavored to savor it. Spades Slick's countenance was now tinged a modest purple, in rough proportion to the smattering of reddish-pink that covered Sleuth's. Problem Sleuth reached a hand behind his back, slowly pulling out his .38 revolver. With the tip of the barrel, he prodded against the waistband of Slick's boxers, slowly pulling them down.

Soon, the tip of his cock peeked out from underneath its woven prison. It was the same shadowy black as the rest of Spades Slick, but it was much softer and warmer. It was already throbbing, eager for attention and much more honest about it than the rest of Spades Slick. As Sleuth pushed down further, he started to rub Slick's shaft with the cold length of the barrel. Spades Slick thought that there was something titillating about being pleasured by something so dangerous, which could, with one slip of the finger, accidental or otherwise, punch a deadly hole right through his thigh. Obviously Spades Slick trusted Sleuth enough not to do it for real, but just the possibility made things much more exciting. Eventually, Sleuth had had enough of teasing his lover, and pulled the boxers the rest of the way down with his hands, exposing Slick completely.

The Sleuth's clothes followed soon after, rustling their way off to the floor, with an extra thud from the weight of the gun. The only thing he still wore was his matesprit's hat. Although their romance was quite obvious if one paid attention to either of them, many often failed to decode their exact status. To an unfamiliar observer, they seemed like textbook kismeses - always at each other's throats, sometimes literally. However, what many failed to consider was that every part of their relationship passed itself back and forth through absurd 20th century cops and robbers cliches so many times that threatening to shoot someone was just another way to say hello. There was genuinely no malice behind it - it was just how two men communicated their love to each other when they had that much stupid machismo dumbassery to live up to, and they were both just fine with things the way they were. They could communicate their feelings just fine if they added enough "fuck"s first. Of course, sometimes even they weren't quite sure sometimes (vacillation is to be expected in any long term relationship), but for the time being they were comfortable being mostly red.

Flushed or not, though, Problem Sleuth wasn't about to let his perp get off with a slap on the wrist. He had just been caught red-handed with some illegal contraband, and if he let that slide with just a warning he wouldn't be doing his duty as a - well, technically he didn't have much of an actual duty to do anything as a privately employed investigator, but that wasn't about to stop him today, he had to teach this punk a lesson!

"Alright now buster, you're coming with me."

Smooth as always. Well, not really, Slick couldn't help but give a pained laugh at what was perhaps the worst joke he'd heard all week. Not that it had much competition, but it was still awful nonetheless. Problem Sleuth grabbed Slick's hands and pantomimed handcuffing him to the sofa, because he neither had handcuffs nor a decent spot to actually handcuff him to, but Spades Slick at least humored him. Problem Sleuth grabbed an unremarkable bottle of lube from a side-table drawer and squirted a healthy sized dollop into his palm. Perhaps just a touch more than he needed, but he liked seeing the way the fluid dripped and slid down everything it coated. Sleuth would certainly enjoy watching it glisten as he slathered Slick's shaft with a healthy layer of it, feeling the slick gel distinctly between his fingers as he rubbed his hand up and down. He stopped to apply a little to his other hand, before sticking a single probing finger up his asshole to spread it more thoroughly. Even if it wasn't strictly necessary, he just liked the way it felt. He swirled it around a moment for a little flair, but quickly withdrew it.

Problem Sleuth fondled Spades' hard, slick member, now with both hands, while giving him the best pair of bedroom eyes he could muster. He leaned forward to give Slick's forehead a kiss as his hands twisted and slid around his stiff cock.

"Come on, tell me how much you want this, you scaly bald bastard," Problem Sleuth murred into Spades' ear, removing his hands from Slick's cock.

"Oh come on, you're really making me-"

"Yes."

"Fuck you, you know how much I need this you asshole."

"Come on, do I need to shove the gun in your face again or something?"

"If you weren't being such a hot jerk right now I'd bend you over and fuck that smug right out of you."

"Well that's a step in the right direction," Problem Sleuth said, his head just centimeters from Slick's. "Now let me show you just what I have in mind for you."

Problem Sleuth suddenly lunged forward, and his lips wasted no time in locking around Slick's. His hands went from their commanding perch upon Spades' shoulders to being wound around his back as the Sleuth embraced him. His slick asshole lowered to meet Spades Slick's well-coated cock. It wantonly prodded against Sleuth's tight entrance as Sleuth kissed him intensely. Although Slick was quite eager to impale the Sleuth on his rigid length, the Sleuth wanted to spend just a few moments more glued to his lover. Sleuth poked his way past Spades' hard lips, his soft, fatty human tongue becoming intertwined with Slick's, which was long, forked, and vaguely reptilian. Their lips smashed together fervently as their hands aimlessly wandered up and down each other's backs. Finally, as the Sleuth tired of exploring Spades' mouth, he pulled away, leaving the two of them panting for breath.

Spades Slick's head was spinning like a Lazy Susan hooked to a V8 engine. Problem Sleuth seemed to be staying much more composed, relishing in Slick's wooziness. Seeing that cute, disoriented look made him want to lunge in again and smooch him until he ran out of breath all over again, an instinct which was exceedingly difficult for him to push aside. He could hardly help himself as his hands grabbed against the sides of Slick's face and pulled him back in. Slick struggles blindly for a few seconds before Problem Sleuth releases his grasp once more.

"Jesus, you gonna let me breathe?"

"Not a chance."

Without warning, Problem Sleuth finally lowered himself onto Spades Slick's erect cock. Spades Slick's face tensed up like he ate a bad lemon as the Sleuth worked his way down the gangster's shaft. The dick itself wasn't particularly notable - it was average in length, width, and shape, at least for a Dersite. Notably, it possessed a subtle ridge that wasn't present in its human counterpart. It certainly wasn't disappointing, but you could easily find another just like it. What really sold Spades Slick was the way he reacted - the way his eyelids clenched tightly shut and his head slammed back into the cushions of the couch was what really elevated the experience of fucking Spades Slick. As his black, chitinous head twisted to the side, he couldn't help but let out a poorly restrained moan. Problem Sleuth always loved the fact that his moans were just a note or two higher than his usual voice - those little signs of vulnerability that Spades Slick only got out for him made the Sleuth really feel special. He felt similarly about seeing the smooth, bald surface of his elliptical head - seeing him without the usual headwear made it feel as though the legendary crimelord had been brought back down to Earth. When he was under Problem Sleuth, he wasn't Spades Slick, head of the Midnight Crew, he was just Spades Slick.

Perhaps the most disarming change in Spades Slick was his expression. Where once he held a brutal snarl, the face of a man perpetually slighted, his features had since melted into an awestruck lust. Tensed though it was, it lost all the furrows of resentment that were normally nested into Spades Slick's countenance. Problem Sleuth lovingly admired his partner's unusually pleasured expression as he started to ride him. A drop of sweat rolled down his flushed cheek as he bounced up and down on Spades' cock, eagerly slamming himself against his crotch. God, just the way that Slick helplessly squirmed under him, like a man desperately trying to squirm their way out from under a boulder, the way he moaned and grunted and completely gave himself over to his voracious lust... Problem Sleuth just couldn't help but join him as he felt Spades Slick's cock prodding against his prostate.

Spades Slick didn't last long at all in the warm, fleshy embrace of Problem Sleuth's ass. The way Problem Sleuth rocked on his cock made him violently spill out inside of him, erupting like Krakatoa. Every muscle in his body tensed up as he pumped Problem Sleuth full of his cum. Sleuth slammed himself down to the base of Slick's cock, trying to catch every last drop before he finished. Slick basked for a moment in the haze of his afterglow before Problem Sleuth yanked him back to reality.

"Come on you greedy jerk, I'm not done yet," Problem Sleuth moaned, both hands caressing the sides of Slick's smooth head as he pulled it slightly upwards. Sleuth paused for a moment to give Slick a peck on the cheek. In just a few short moments, after Slick recovers a little of his breath, Problem Sleuth returns to his frenzied humping. Slick's thick white cum started to just barely leak out from Sleuth's ass as he gradually began to work back up to full speed. Slick took another second to recover before wrapping his arms around Sleuth, pulling him in close as Sleuth continued to ride his cock. It wouldn't be much longer now, Sleuth was already feeling positively euphoric from the way Slick's cock had been jabbing into his prostate at just the right angle. A few thrusts later, he came completely undone in Slick's lap with a loud moan of pleasure. He stopped to take a few deep breaths, resting his chin on Slick's shoulder. A few seconds of panting later, he climbs off slick, opting to just sit next to him on the sofa without bothering to put any clothes back on yet.

"So, you actually went and stole his fucking chicken?" Sleuth asked rhetorically, draping an arm around his shoulder.

"Isn't that why you came here in the first place?"

"Honestly? I was just fishing. Had no idea you had gone and done that. You gonna give it back?"

"I was thinking I'd get a different one and leave that somewhere, really fuck with him. Think he'd notice?"

"Probably, but it'd be hilarious if he didn't. What're you doing with the original?"

"Deuce wanted it, only reason I bothered in the first place. Dracula's hardly around, so you don't really even get to watch him get pissed anyways."

"Mind if I crash here tonight? Kinda can't find my keys. It's complicated."

"Knock yourself out, but there's only the one bed and I'm not sleeping on the couch."

"We just boned, would sharing a bed really be the end of the world?"

"Fine, but you better not hog the blankets like last time."


End file.
